


Hitch

by grit



Series: Seven or Two [4]
Category: Naruto
Genre: F/F, kakashi still doesn't know how to human, surprise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 15:45:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19726729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grit/pseuds/grit
Summary: He’d scurry because the store is closing up in a minute or two, but ah, effort.





	Hitch

Kakashi expertly lopes around street vendors and civilians alike, eye halfway drooped and a shuffle to his steps. He has a target in mind, the bakery at the street corner, where he’ll get the pastries Sakura swears by. In his experience she’s particularly vicious in combat when he starts his lesson eating them in front of her. 

It’s so cute when she tries to sever limbs from his body.

The Jounin dodges a few familiar faces, and curses himself for leaving without his book today. Sakura had talked him into it, but he’s missing a barrier now, so he resolves to swing by his apartment on the way to the training ground.

He’d scurry because the store is closing up in a minute or two, but ah, effort. 

Just when he turns the corner and gives his back to one of the tinier brats, a rope fastens around his torso and he is yanked back by the combined effort of a mini-trio with surprisingly refined coordination. 

He lets them. 

The strongest keeps him pinned to the ground. With considerable effort, as he’s still an Academy student.

“I told you we’d get the drop on him!” The blonde girl insists, impossibly upbeat about the whole thing.

The Nara boy peers at him appraisingly and shakes his head, but he’s shrewd enough not to talk back to his bossy friend.

But, with a whisper, “Ino, we could get into _trouble.”_

She props her hand on her hip and silences the Akimichi with a decisive “Shush. Better help me move him.” 

Kakashi, faced with the prospect of being dragged across the floor because judging by the figures the three kids cut they won’t be able to carry him, offers, “I could move myself.” And, to demonstrate, he gently pushes the Akimichi aside and sends him tumbling while he wiggles out of the rope. 

He recalls one of the books he recently finished on politeness, stretches long-limbed with a cracking yawn, and adds, “To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

Ino lifts one elegant brow, terribly unimpressed. The Nara snorts and the Akimichi clambers to his feet to tower beside them. Kakashi follows suit, but even with his wilting spine bent, he easily trumps them height-wise. 

They glower at each other for a minute, until Ino shoves her elbow into the Nara’s ribs and he buckles forward with a short yelp. 

Kakashi waits patiently for him to say his piece. 

“Ino wants a word with you,” the boy drawls, and clenches his hand around the Akimichi’s wrist, scuttling away with his spluttering friend in tow. 

Ino is left pinning him down with her glare. “I have to do everything myself,” she complains. “Fine. You. Asshole. You forgot Sakura’s birthday.” 

It's fascinating how sudden thunderstorms break, even if they're just in your head. Kakashi was in a good mood and now the rawness of his fear, always shoved into nothingness, is surfacing. 

Has he failed her that much already?

“I,” he says weakly. “I did?” 

The Yamanaka crosses her arms. “Yes, and she didn’t really say that it made her sad, but, you see, I know her! She _only_ ever asks me out for ice-cream when something’s wrong, and more often than not it’s because of a bully, you bully.” 

He’s stuck on the ice-cream bit and frowns. He’s not sure how that works, but – “Aren’t you too young to be dating?” 

Ino bites her lip aggressively. “We’re not dating. Yet. Besides, Sakura is twelve by now, and that’s sort of the point. Stick to it.” 

Kakashi nods, uncomprehending. 

“So, what are you going to do to make it up to her?” She continues. 

He wishes he'd be half the man Minato was. 

“Ah,” he answers mildly for a lack of better words, and phases to his apartment before she continues being a voice of reason. 

There, he picks up his battered copy of Icha Icha Innocence and sinks into his couch, an appropriately soft piece of furniture among his frugal interior. He catches a whiff of dogfood coming from the fridge, but there’s nothing fit for human consumption in there. 

“I think I’ll stay home today,” Kakashi says miserably and stares at the ceiling. 

Three hours later, he’s scooped up in three blankets that the dogs brought him and he hasn’t moved from his refuge. 

A spare key turns the lock to his apartment and he picks up the distinct smell of yakiniku takeaway, the good kind. There’s an undercurrent, too, barely a hint. It’s fresher, slightly sweet, and he doesn’t have to pinpoint it beyond not-Genma, but he’d recognize that scent anywhere. 

Torn between hiding and running, Kakashi hasn’t decided yet how to best panic when Sakura crosses the threshold. 

“I don’t deserve this,” he sulks instead, guilty eyes darting between the food and Sakura herself.

“Don’t be an idiot, sensei,” Sakura says warmly. “That’s _my_ dinner. Watch me.” 

He cracks a smile. 


End file.
